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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677131">Get Over It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirdo_Watcher/pseuds/Weirdo_Watcher'>Weirdo_Watcher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Centricide (Webseries)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Human Names, M/M, Misgendering Ancom to impress blue man, Nightmares, Tankie suffering for being a stink man</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirdo_Watcher/pseuds/Weirdo_Watcher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tankie fully realizes that his Anarkitty is never coming back and ends up isolating himself more because he sucks</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Authleft/Libleft, authleft/authright, authunity, leftist unity - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Get Over It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Joseph sat down quietly on his bed, glancing at his small mountain of books. Whenever he was upset, he'd always turn to theory. Das Kapital and of course his beloved manifesto were his usual go-to but today was different… </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, his rather proud exterior would never once reveal it, no he wouldn't dare but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He missed Jay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The frightful hobgoblin that stalked through the halls of their headquarters had always been nearby in some way, shape, or form. Even before the centricide, like the feral rat that scavenged the shells of his семечки, qi always came back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked up a book qi had given him a long time ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I know how much you love theory so why not give this a read Tankie!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Workers' Council</span>
  </em>
  <span> had never been especially intriguing before and the ideas of Left Communism deemed childish. It had always been an odd parody of himself, like looking through a fun house mirror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But qi had liked it and it wasn't often that he could convince the smaller leftist to read anything that didn't have pictures in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn't matter what he thought about the book, at least it wasn't anything from Kropotkin. Truthfully, he had only kept it because qim had given it to him and it was wrong to throw away a gift from a friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quietly opened the book. Jay had always mentioned left communism as a way for them to grow closer to one another. It wasn’t too uncommon for their ideals for society to clash so hard that it prevented either of them from accomplishing even their mutual goals. As he continued to read, the letters and words swirled in his mind like a chaotic storm. They began to lose their meaning, a symphony of static noise on the page. He smelled the ink on the page as if it was freshly written even though the book had to be at least two years off the print.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's your fault.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He continued to try to make sense of what he was reading when James opened the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Commie you useless Slav, I've been calling you for almost ten minutes." He said annoyed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"H-huh?" He threw his book aside. "Sorry comrade, I've...been distracted lately." </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't care. Someone broke in again and stole my hat. I'm going after them to execute the filthy degenerate."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He then looked over at the book, intrigued by why Tankie would own a copy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Workers Council...Have you been filling your empty skull with nonsense again?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The communist sighed. "It's nothing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh please Tankie, Ancom was weak and useless to this movement." He slowly approached him. "I know this was from him...Don't you remember what I said? We are all that matters."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Nazi was a great many things and perceptive was always one of them. He knew when to be gentle when it served his interests, his use of names was the easiest way to tell when he was being manipulative. He knew that names held great power, they grabbed attention like the icy grip of death around the hearts of his fellow dogmas. Small acts of kindness here and there to help his “grieving compatriot” went a long way when it came to getting what he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he possessed an odd affection for the Slav but, it never hurt to play things up when he genuinely couldn't care less about his problems.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tell them what they want to hear and you can shape the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Joseph…” he started, swallowing down anything that wasn’t artificial sweetness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... We are the dichotomy. We are the left and the right that have morphed all history. West versus East, the far-left versus The far-right, dancing the eternal waltz of what is best for our people. We are the right and wrong that guide men to do great and horrible things. Ancom was little more than an idealist who dreamed of an unachievable utopia, and when unable to complete his goals, smothered himself under the oppression of narcotics.” He slowly put his hand on top of his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that right?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...да… I mean, did he just expect everyone to just…get along?” He chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And promotion of degeneracy!” James laughed. “First it's the gays being able to marry and next thing you know, he’s saying that dogs can consent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, and the constant screaming that everyone is a bigot! Sure maybe a few indigenous people got killed for shamanism in a few rebellions but that doesn't make me a racist!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not! Besides, who hasn’t killed a few religious minorities in their day?’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're right." He stood up. "Sorry, I'm not quite sure what got into me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good. Now that you're done crying, you can throw that useless book away and watch the base."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched the fascist leave, quietly hoping that he didn’t ultimately abandon him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span> He adjusted his ushanka and went to go eat his daily amount of black bread. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bland.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stale.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Who cares.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lack of colour on his taste palette bored him but it was routine. The structure that held his day together, and he didn’t feel like making a fresh loaf.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Tankie? Why isn’t the yeast bubbling?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You killed it! Shit...дурак...just give it here...” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I'm sorry!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s fine, we’ll just have to start new yeast with warm water instead.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't baked since Jay left, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. He had loved to cook for as long as he could remember, even taking the time to try to teach Jay so qi could be slightly less incompetent and kick qis junk food addiction. Joseph smiled a bit to himself. Qi was a terrible chef that would make even his caring ба́бушка faint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned a bit in disgust. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Why couldn’t Qi leave his mind?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went outside to try to clear his thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laid down by a large oak tree in the backyard, its mighty branches cloaking the yard in a soft blanket of darkness. Joseph </span>
  <span>rolled over and began to stare at the vast nothingness that was the sky, letting his thoughts consume him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joseph had always been a thinking man. If he encountered a problem, he was the one that thought of a solution that benefited the whole group. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But he and James alone were hardly a group now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had always believed that he didn’t need to be overly strong because it was the job of the group to assist the weak to make the group stronger. He was allowed to cry, he was allowed to feel sad or confused or alone because he knew that there was always going to be someone there to help him in the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who was he going to turn to now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other members of the Authoritarian Left were as divided as ever, squabbling over the smaller details of Marxist theory and how their own people’s needs were affected by them and the centricide. Besides, it was his job to prop up his brothers and sisters, in theory, he was the stage upon everything was built.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and tried to think of happier times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jay and he had just overthrown a tyrannical fascist state, the whirlwind of change blowing over the city as a tidal wave washes over virgin sand. Revolution is never peaceful or clean but the workers were free and that was all that mattered at the moment. The smoke from the small fires tickled his nose like cinnamon. The remains of an office building acted as his throne over the new free world as all of those who stood in the way of progress burned.  Indeed, it was here in his palace of irony that granted him the full view of the world. How many years of slowly planting the seeds of theory for his comrades had it been since he had last seen the proletariat rid themselves of their masters? How much inequality did these people have to face before they had finally had enough? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The area had mostly been destroyed and many lives were lost but...it was a small price to pay to ensure a brighter future for the next generation.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was overlooking a scorched town with the anarchist, a relic of a capitalist past.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Commie?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please Ancom, Call me Joseph.” He smiled. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jay looked at him with a smile behind his mask and excitement in qis eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Joseph? What are we going to do now that the revolution is over?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He rolled his eyes and brushed off his suit before turning towards qim. “Come now Anarkitty, do not worry about such...trivialities right now. Think of the fields of sunflowers growing were once abandoned buildings stood. Think about how clean the ocean is going to look now that we, no, the people have the funds to put towards more environmental options…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...” Qi was quiet for a moment and he frowned.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span> “... No.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not just going to stand here and just pretend like we haven't done this all before.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you talking about?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Listen, Joseph, this is what always happens. You know just as well as I do that we can’t coexist.”  He looked up at the taller man, tired and worn. “Every time there is a revolution, you always promise that people will be free…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But they were free, you just couldn’t understand it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Free from the shackles of capitalism.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Free from the dictatorships of those that value human life under their net worth.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Free from their oppressors.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We broke their chains and now it’s time to instil order.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you so stubborn? Why can’t you just listen to me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You keep giving me that look like everything is just going to be okay but how many times have we had this exact conversation?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why won’t you listen to me? Why do we always have to fight?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span> “We do this over and over again and I always hope for a different result.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Different result...? Why are there tears on your mask? You're the one hurting me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tankie…”  He could hear the shakiness of qis voice, eyes pouring tears as qi walked towards him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How many times are you going to betray me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...how many times do I have to die?” Qi sat down in front of him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>As many times as you shatter my heart любовник. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Qi cupped his face before burying his face into his chest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>"How many times will you put your need to be in control over me?"</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Столько раз, сколько мне нужно...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>"...why do you hate me so much?"</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>ты разбиваешь мое сердце...</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Qi was silent for a moment before qi stared coldly into his eyes, unfeeling, unmoving. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>"Goodbye Joseph.”</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Joseph watched silently as the life left Jays’ eyes, the gun shaking in his hands as he watched the blood pool on qis jacket.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>До свидания котёнок...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A feeling of hollowness filled him as he watched the corpses of the innocent slowly turn into aim. A static lull filled his head with cynical emptiness that almost made him feel peaceful. The wind that once smelled of revolution and an uncertain future brought the pungent stench of rotting flesh and his former palace of irony came crumbling down beneath him as a pile of bones. He almost wanted to laugh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Laugh at how he cared so much over his beloved hobgoblin that he'd never see again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He woke up a bit surprised by how much time had passed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How funny. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He felt like dying. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span> He sat up properly and rubbed his eyes. The slight numb feeling of grogginess washed over his aching body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to blame someone for Jay leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>James.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your fault.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went inside and got a drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jack.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your fault.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A single shot became two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That nihilist Noelle.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re just mad you can’t control qim any more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two shots became three.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That damn monkey</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Now qi’s free from you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three shots became the bottle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>In almost a moment of divine clarity from his haze, he laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed as he felt the eyes of his brothers and sisters watching the base of their existence crumble under pressure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed as he felt the eyes of his great philosopher heroes stare upon him with scorn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Myself."</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, he had become a parody of himself and a bottle became glass shards on the ground.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uhhh<br/>this was supposed to be done like 2 weeks ago but it got large enough to split into 2 chapters<br/>or maybe I won’t write another chapter<br/>¯\_(ツ)_/¯<br/>This was also my first time not writing some form of horror so that's weird.</p>
<p> I promise I don't actually hate red slav he's just mean to green gremlin and I feel like a lot of people forget that.</p>
<p>The human names for the extremists are <br/>Joseph -&gt; Tankie<br/>James -&gt; Bad blue dude<br/>Jack -&gt; Ancao<br/>Jay -&gt; Anarkitty </p>
<p>Russian Bits: (Russian is not my first language and I am still learning ;-;)<br/>семечки -&gt; directly translates into "seeds" but is usually used to refer to sunflower seeds in particular.<br/>да -&gt; "Yes"<br/>дурак -&gt; "Dumbass"<br/>любовник -&gt; "Lover?"<br/>Столько раз, сколько мне нужно -&gt; "As many times as I need."<br/>ты разбиваешь мое сердце -&gt; "You break my heart"<br/>До свидания котёнок -&gt; "Goodbye kitten."</p></blockquote></div></div>
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